Go to Jupiter
by KissTheBoy7
Summary: Feminism is startlingly present in Roger's fourth grade class, so he enlists his friend Mark to help him reverse it. Marker kiddie fluff because I know you guys eat it up. Oneshot.


**A/N: Hey everyone, I love you all as usual. ^_^ If you're reading, you get a virtual hug. If you review you get an extra one. Here's some kiddie fluff to tide you over while I work on other shtuff, I really couldn't resist. Let's all celebrate my ungrounding! Yayyyyyyy!**

Disclaimer: _RENT? Not mine. Neither is the fourth grade… or the little ditty the girls are singing… Yeah, pretty much this cutesy little plot is mine and nothing else._

**Go to Jupiter**

"Girls go to coooollege, to get more knoooowledge!"

Roger Davis glared at the circle of giggling, squealing little girls with all of the fury a nine-year-old boy could muster. Beside him, his best friend shifted nervously from foot to foot. Mark was a twitchy one, always pushing his glasses up his nose and glancing around anxiously, making sure that he was doing what was expected of him. It was a little pathetic, but Roger was fond of him nonetheless.

"Leave em alone, Rog… Maureen is nice…"

Except when he was ruining his fun. Then he was annoying.

"Boys go to Juuuupiter, to get more stuuuuupider!"

"Look at em!" He gestured to the crowd of pigtails and dimples in disgust, scrunching his face up. "They're- they're such GIRLS. It's gross!"

"B-but aren't we supposed to like g-girls?" Another thing that Roger hated about Mark was his stutter. His mom thought it was cute, but Roger had a hard enough time understanding the quieter boy without working through a speech impediment.

He gave Mark an incredulous look. "What's there to like about girls?" Shaking his head, he wondered vaguely how Mark would get along in life without him to guide him. He was so innocent, so pale and scrawny and helpless looking. He obviously depended on Roger for survival. "They're gross, dude."

"But my mom says-" Mark stammered, all big blue eyes and a confused frown. Roger reached out and tugged on his red hair, making him yelp and squirm away. "Okay!" he whined. "Lemme go!"

"Jeez. You don't shut up, do you? I don't care what your mom says." Roger didn't care what his own mother said, either, because as far as he was concerned being rude was part of his personality.

A girl in their class with twin braids flopping about behind her stuck her tongue out at them as she broke off from the group and went to her desk, setting her things down primly. "Boys," she sighed gustily, rolling her eyes.

Huffing and stumbling out of Roger's grip, Mark pouted. He had to admit that lately, the girls really had been getting to him. "Fine," he mumbled, gluing his gaze to the floor where it usually resided and pushing his glasses up his nose with his index and middle fingers. "But we can't do anything about it, so we can't complain…"

"Or can we?" the aspiring guitarist murmured, quirking an eyebrow as his creative elementary school brain began to cook up yet another half-formed prank. Mark groaned internally- he knew that look. Four years of best friendship made him very, very aware of every impending trip to the principal's office. "Hmm…"

"No, we can't," he tried to protest, but typically Roger waved off his arguments without a second thought and began to grin fiendishly.

"Yes. Yes we can. And you're gonna help me."

_**MRMRMRMRMRMRMRMRMR**_

So it wasn't one of Roger's more brilliant ideas. So what? He was still proud of it. He stood in the corner with Mark beside him, tensed to run out and fulfill what he was now sure was his fourth grade destiny.

"Ready?" He didn't turn to check for Mark's response, letting his friend splutter on nervously only half-listening and watching the lunch monitor carefully. The moment she turned that corner… They would be off.

"Not really. I-"

"Go!"

The green-eyed boy tore out of the shadows, sprinting into the open and vaulting onto an empty lunch table. A collective gasp went through the gaggles of elementary school children seated at the other tables, from ages five to ten, and even the black-aproned lunch ladies peeked out of the cafeteria lines on the other end of the room to see what the commotion was about. Roger was in his element, adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he waited impatiently for Mark to join him. Seconds later the other boy scrambled up beside him, so close that they were sharing body heat as he glanced around anxiously.

"Should we really be doing th-?"

"BOYS GO TO COLLEGE TO GET MORE KNOWLEDGE!" the more adventurous boy hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth in an attempt to increase his range. He slung an arm around Mark's shoulders, pulling him even closer without thinking about it in order to keep him from toppling off of the table in fear. He hissed into his ear, "Come on, Mark, I can't do this alone."

Mark, on the verge of hyperventilating already, nodded and took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself. He called, "G-girls go to… to J-Jupiter-"

"You boys get down from there!"

Grinning maniacally, Roger got in a last exclamation before he and Mark were tugged down from their make-believe stage by the furious, red-faced vice principal. "GIRLS GO TO JUPITER-!"

And then they were being forcefully removed, scolded by various monitors and the vice principal himself, and Roger wasn't listening to a word of it. Mark, however, looked nauseous at the idea of his mother being called about this. He clung to Roger's arm and the other boy let him, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"Wasn't that _so cool?_"

Shaking, Mark seemed doubtful. "I… Guess so…" Dissatisfied with this answer, Roger gestured to behind them as they were escorted from the cafeteria.

"Listen to that!"

Behind them, a chant had started. All of the pre-pubescent male voices rose in a cacophony of sound, all saying the same thing.

"Boy's go to coooollege!"

In protest, high-pitched squeaks shouted, "GIRLS!"

Ecstatic, Roger squirmed and made an excited noise in the back of his throat. "We started a _revolution_, Mark!"

Mark couldn't help but grin at that. Not because he was in trouble and not because he'd started an all-out war between the boys and the girls in the lunchroom, but because Roger was so very enthusiastic about it. He hated to admit it, but he was a sucker for his best friend.

"Yeah," he said, biting his lip and looking down at Roger's sneakers. "Hey, Rog? What are they gonna do to us?"

The boys were steered towards the principal's office, still ignoring the vice principal's chastising words, and Mark thought he felt his stomach bottom out. He grabbed for Roger's hand and squeezed the life out of it, and Roger let him. After all, he _had_ loyally played his part. He could let him have his weird girly habits as a reward…

Not that he secretly liked the security of it or anything.

"They won't call our parents… well, maybe mine. But you'll get off with a warning." Roger was sure of himself, nodding absently to his own words. He liked to seem confident and it seemed to soothe Mark, so he knew he was doing it right. The other boy again pushed his glasses up his nose and this time Roger felt more affectionate than annoyed. As they sat in the blue plastic chairs in the waiting room side by side, disentangling their hands, Roger tossed Mark a grin.

"You have to admit that we showed those girls."

"Yeah… I guess we did."

Mark smiled back, and Roger decided that _that_ was the real victory.


End file.
